


We are the Last of the Elvhenan

by PopcornMaster



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 00:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2328626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PopcornMaster/pseuds/PopcornMaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Máirín Mahariel is finally returning back to her clan after spending months away from them. She's learned much while away, and returning home she's finally ready to receive her Vallaslin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are the Last of the Elvhenan

The autumn air was cold, the frost already clinging to the grass and the moss and the leafs, even though the summer had barely passed. Mist still clung to the land as the morning sun rose. It was pale sunlight, but it still warmed.

Máirín had already been walking for hours. She’d been away from her clan and home for months and wanted nothing more than to get back. She was close now, she felt it in her bones and in her blood with each step she took.

She knew exactly when she passed into the lands her clan had made their home. She couldn’t explain it if asked, but there was something in the air, something in the earth that called her home, and it was not long before she saw familiar faces appear between the trees – hunters getting ready to head out into the woods greeted her with smiles on their faces, and the closer she got to camp, the more of her people she saw. But there was one face in particular that she had missed.

It was at the edge of the camp that she found him sitting by himself with his back against a tree, so focused on the bow he was carving that he didn’t even hear her footsteps as she approached. Máirín stopped just a few feet behind him, not saying a word, just waiting for him to notice her presence.

“I know you’re standing there, Merrill” Fenarel said in a calm voice without turning around and the corners of her mouth tugged into a smile, “I can feel your magic in the air.”

“Is that so, _lethallin_?” she smirked, and he stood up and turned to her as soon as he heard her voice, disbelief written across his face as he just stared at her. “ _Aneth ara_ , Fenarel,” she said in a softer voice than before, after a few moments of silence.

He raised his free hand, reaching out to touch her arm as if he still did not believe his eyes. “Ma… Máirín?”

She simply nodded as a response, fearing that tears from the feelings of exhaustion and joy that she felt burning behind her eyes would come if she spoke, but as soon as he pulled her into his arms, she felt them spill over her cheeks.

Fenarel pulled away just enough that he could see her face. The corners of his mouth curved into a smile as he gently wiped away her tears, and pressed his forehead against hers, speaking ever so softly, “I’ve missed you so much, _lethallan_ …”

“I’ve missed you too…” Máirín responded, tightening her hold on him. He smelled like home. Like moss and leafs and the halla, like carved wood and leather. She had missed this smell.

They held onto each other for a long while, but eventually they let go and took a few steps away from one another, but no further than a few feet.

Fenarel grinned and nudged her shoulder. “I was beginning to think you were never coming back!” His features softened again and he let out a small sigh. “It’s been almost a year since _Arlathvhen_.”

“My tutor wanted to be sure I learned my lessons well before I left,” she chuckled.

He looked at her with a crooked smile on his lips, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did you, _lethallan_?”

Máirín’s smile turned into a smirk as she spun around and started walking again, casting an eye back on him. “Come. I’ll show you.”

They walked in silence, just the twigs snapping under their feet as they walked over them. Once and twice they looked over at each other, just laughing quietly about old times for a second, when they were younger and used to chase each other through the woods, before continuing in silence.

After a while Fenarel began to sigh. The longer they walked, the deeper the sighs and she recognized them, and laughed again.

“What are you laughing about, Máirín?” he questioned and she shook her head, continuing to walk.

“You’re sighing,” she answered and looked over to him, “You might as well say ‘are we there yet?’, _da’mi_.”

He frowned and lightly pushed her. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”

She chuckled, “Stop behaving like a child and I will, _da’mi_.”

The blonde elf just rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’re here.”

Máirín watched him as his eyes sweep over the surroundings. They were at the edge of a cliff; below them were only miles and miles of forest. She could see Lake Calenhad in the distance. The wind danced in their hair and she took a deep breath and felt the cold air fill her lungs. Felt the rays of the still rising sun on her face. She looked at Fenarel and saw him breathe in the surroundings, his hair golden in the sunlight.

“Do you trust me, _lethallin_?” she asked and took a step backwards, towards the ledge.

Fenarel opened his moss green eyes again, a slight wrinkle forming between his brows as he looked at her. “Of course I do.”

She smiled softly at him, took another step back and closed her eyes. With a deep breath she let herself fall.

The wind was rushing around her, so deafening she could barely hear him call her name after her. She felt so light, as if the wind was already carrying her within its arms.  Máirín wrapped her arms around herself and summoned her magic, felt it spark underneath her skin. Her bones began to crack and shift. In the beginning the transformation used to hurt, but now it felt as natural to her as the cold spring rain on her skin, or the forest ground underneath her bare feet.

She stretched out her wings and felt the air lift her up, letting out a cry of euphoria as she soared through the sky. With just a few bats of her wings she was high up again and she could see so far. She could see a deer walking down in the forest on her own. Two sparrows chasing each other playfully through the treetops. She wanted to fly over the country, see it all, but when she heard him cry out her name again she remembered she had other business to attend to at the moment.

With another cry she turned around and flew back up the cliff where Fenarel still stood and he looked so traumatized that she actually felt a bit bad. She circled around him before landing on his shoulder, letting out a gentle cry as she did.

“ _L-lethallan_ …?”

She let out another cry and lightly pecked his head with her beak before flying off his shoulder again and transforming back into her elven form. Máirín smiled softly at him and cocked her head to the side. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare-“ Her words cut short as Fenarel suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, and she wrapped her arms around his back. She could feel him trembling.

When he calmed down he let her go again. “Next time, please give me a warning if you’re planning on jumping off a cliff, _lethallan_.”

She let out a short laugh. “I thought you said you trusted me!”

“I almost jumped down after you!” he replied and pushed her aside. “How was I supposed to know you could transform into a bird?”

“A falcon,” she corrected with a big grin on her face.

“Yeah well…” he said with a slight frown on his face, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “You scared me half to death.”

Máirín just chuckled and started walking, heading back towards where their clan was camped. She was exhausted, having been walking for days and barely resting in between. Just the thought of seeing her clan, of seeing Fenarel again, had kept her going, but now she felt like she could sleep for days.

She reached out to her side and took his hand in hers, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked.

Once they got back to camp, Máirín was so tired by the time they sat down by the campfire, with a few of the other clan members gathering around, so tired that she could barely stay awake for a second longer. She fell asleep to the sound of _Hahren_ Paivel telling stories of the lost days of the Elvhen and Fenarel slowly running his fingers through her dark hair.

She slept for what felt like days, and when she woke up she could see the stars gleam high above her through the canopy of the autumn leaves. The smell of deer cooking over the fire filled her nose and she stretched her arms and her back, finding that she’d been lying tucked in on a bedroll.

“She’s waking up!”

She had barely time to remember who that familiar voice belonged to before she was jumped by her. Máirín tried sitting up, loudly groaning. “ _Aneth ara_ , Merrill…”

“ _Aneth ara_ , Máirín!” she replied and loosened her grip just enough so that Máirín could sit up straight. “We’ve missed you!”

Máirín put her arms around the other elf and held her close for a few moments. “I missed you too.”

Merrill let her go, with her brows furrowed and a pout on her lips. “But not enough to bring me along with you and Fenarel this morning!”

“Well, Fenarel is special, isn’t he?” Máirín heard another familiar voice chuckle and she looked across the fire to see Tamlen and Fenarel sitting there, Fenarel slapping the other over the back of his head.

“More special than you at least, _da’assan_!” she retorted before standing up and stretching again.

“Where did you go anyway? What did you do?” Merrill asked as Máirín reached out her hand to help her up off the ground and they moved over to the two others, sitting down next to them.

“She nearly scared me to death,” Fenarel answered with a frown on his face, before looking over at her with a small smirk. “That’s what she did.”

“Ooh,” Merrill crooned, intrigued. “What did she do?”

Máirín laughed and patted his arm softly. “I just showed him a new trick of mine.”

“She jumped off a cliff.”

“You did?” she exclaimed and looked at her with wide, dark green eyes. “Did you die? I mean, how did you survive?”

“Let’s make a deal, _da’vhenan_ ,” she chuckled and leaned back against the log behind them, “If you braid my hair, I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“Deal!” Merrill giggled and got up and sat down on the log so that she could reach to braid the other woman’s hair. Máirín let out a please sigh and closed her eyes when she felt her fingers comb through her dark hair and the light tugging and she started braiding.

“What about me, _lethallan_?” Tamlen said, pretending to pout over being left out.

She opened one eye and looked at him for a few seconds before closing it again and taking a deep breath. “If you braid my hair, I’ll show you too.”

~

A few days passed. It felt like she had never been gone, even though the clan had moved since she left. That never bothered Máirín. It wasn’t staying in one place that felt like home to her, it was the trees around her, the stars above her, that was her home. But most of all it was her clan.

Now she was ready for her _Vallaslin_. She had talked with Keeper Marethari, who told her the how she would prepare for the ritual.

She meditated, on their gods and the ways of their people, and she chose which of the gods she would honor with her _Vallaslin_.

The last preparation before the ritual was for her to purify her body and skin. She dreaded this part the most. It wasn’t winter yet, but the strong winds up by the mountainside blew cold, and the water in the lake would be even more so.

Máirín took a deep breath and began sheading her clothes, feeling the chilly wind bite her skin and the hair rose on her arms. She summoned a fire spell to her hands and rubbed her arms, to keep herself warm. Then she stepped into the lake.

The water was cold, so cold that it took her breath away for a moment. She forced herself to take another deep breath before sinking further into the water. She tried using the same fire spell to heat up the water around her a little bit, but it hardly made a difference, the water still felt as cold as ice.

She let out a short laugh, cursing herself for not returning just a month sooner so she could’ve done this when the water didn’t feel cold as ice. But this was something all of the Dalish people had to do to earn the privilege of the _Vallaslin_.

Máirín washed herself, felt the cold water rush around her as she went even deeper into the lake. After a while the water didn’t feel so cold anymore. She couldn’t tell if she was actually heating the water up, or if she just got used to it.

A branch snapped a dozen meters behind her and she turned around, covering her chest with her arms. She saw someone pass between the trees, and she just shook her head with a grin on her lips.

“If you were going to sneak a peek, you should have been a little bit quieter, _lethallin_!” she called out.

She saw Fenarel come closer, stopping just a few meters away from her, his eyes everywhere but on her. “I didn’t come to… I mean…” he mumbled barely loud enough for her to hear and then he cleared his throat. “I was out hunting. I didn’t know you were here.”

Máirín smiled and moved towards him a little bit. “Come swim with me, Fenarel.”

He chuckled and shook his head slowly before looking up to her. “You’re supposed to prepare for the _Vallaslin_ ritual, _lethallan_.”

“No one said I had to do it alone,” she replied with a smirk. “Come, _lethallin_. Please?”

Fenarel let out an awkward chuckle and she half-expected him to refuse, but then he put down his bow and took off his quiver. Her heart started pounding when she watched his fingers unclasp every buckle of his leather armor. If she hadn’t been in the water, she felt like she would’ve burned up.

He stepped into the water, cursed over how cold it was but continued until he was just a feet from her.

“It’s not so bad, is it, _da’mi_?” she chuckled and splashed some water one him and watched him wince at how cold it was.

He splashed water back at her and said, “I thought I asked you not to call me that?”

“What would you want me to call you instead?”

He raised his hand and brushed a streak of her dark hair from her forehead. “I think you already know,” he whispered as he slowly leaned down towards her.

Máirín closed her eyes and felt his lips press against her own. They were so soft and warm against hers and she had longed for this for so long. She felt him snake his arms around her waist and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her, gently nipping at his lower lip.

Fenarel pulled away with a soft moan. “I waited so long to do that.”

A smirk stretched across her lips. “You didn’t have to wait to do that.” She pulled him back in for another kiss, hungrier than the first and she felt his arms wrap tighter around her, felt his skin against her in the water. She let her hands slide down his back, softly scratching with her fingernails against his spine and feeling him shiver under her touch.

She had longed to feel his skin against hers. During the long months that she was gone he had been on her mind every night. Máirín pulled away from the kiss and pressed her forehead to his, running her fingers through his blonde hair and whispered, “ _Ma’arlath_.”

Fenarel smiled and replied in favor, with a dozen small kisses placed on her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her mouth. “ _Ma’arlath_ ,” he breathed with his lips against hers.

Máirín felt his hand slide down her back and she relaxed against him, her own hand reaching up and grabbing a handful of his blonde hair, gently pulling him in for another kiss, and she could feel his arousal hard against her stomach.

His hands slid further down her backside, and she gasped with surprise before laughing against his lips as he lifted her up off the ground, wrapping her legs around himself and she felt the cold air against her wet skin. She shivered slightly, but when he claimed her lips again she felt a heat spread from the center of her body.

He carried her to the shore when he lost his footing and they both tumbled down into the water. “Sorry,” he apologized but she just laughed and kissed him again, pulling him closer to herself. The ground was cold against her back, but Fenarel’s lips against her neck and his hand reaching up to cup her breast set her skin on fire.

“Fenarel,” she breathed and fisted her hand in his hair, bringing him up to her again.

He leaned down to kiss her and when he brushed his thumb gently over her nipple, her whole body shuddered. She moaned softly against his lips and pressed her body against him. She took his length into her hand and gently starting to stroke him, causing him to let out a long groan.

He placed himself between her thighs, and his eyes were dark and hooded as he looked into hers. Then Fenarel began pushing into her ever so slowly, and she bit down on her lower lip to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape her. He pulled out, but only just a little bit before sliding back in and she gasped as pleasure rippled through her body.

She recaptured his lips and rolled her hips in tandem with his, he thrust just right, over and over, and Máirín could feel the tension building inside her. She breathed his name as she pressed her forehead to his. She wanted to be closer to him, wanted feel him more. He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, and she fell over the edge. Her orgasm washed over her in waves and she clung tightly to Fenarel, a throaty cry slipping past her lips.

Fenarel continued to move within her, his pace quickening, drawing out her climax as he felt his own building up as she tightened around him. He pressed his lips against Máirín’s, kissing her as he came.

He collapsed against her and they lay there for minutes, feeling the waves licking their legs as their hearts returned to their normal pace and their breaths slowed again. Máirín smiled and turned against him, feeling his arms wrap around her and she realized she was shivering, Fenarel as well.

She chuckled softly, “Maybe we should head back.”

“Maybe we should,” he replied and kissed her temple before sitting up. He brushed a streak of her dark hair from her face and smiled. “You’re getting your _Vallaslin_.”

“Yeah,” Máirín whispered and felt a smile tug her lips as she sat up. “I am.”

~

She passed the rite to adulthood.

Máirín had gotten her _Vallaslin_ , honoring the Creators and the old traditions of her people. Getting the blood writing had been painful, but she had passed and now she was recognized as an adult by her clan.

“I have a gift for you.”

Máirín smiled and gave the halla one last pet before turning around, a smile stretching out on her lips as she laid her eyes on Fenarel. “A gift?” she asked with a raised eyebrow before her eyes fell on the staff he held in his hands.

“It’s my own crafting,” he said with a self-conscious smile as he handed it over to her. “I had help from Keeper Marethari and Master Ilen, of course, they told me how I needed to work the ironwood so that it could-“

Máirín silenced him with a soft kiss, running her fingers through his blonde hair, and when she pulled away she gave him a crooked smile. “It’s beautiful, _emma lath_. Thank you.” She pulled him in for another kiss.

Fenarel cupped her cheek and smiled against her lips, letting out a low chuckle when their lips parted. “No more _da’mi_?” he asked and brushed a streak of her dark hair from her face.

“Only on special occasions, _emma lath_ ,” she giggled softly.


End file.
